Mythos di Hospitale
by Number1PixarFan
Summary: Post-finale oneshot. Dr. Whale muses with one of his fellow doctors about morality, mortality, and their place in the fairy-tale society. My theory on Whale's identity. Rated T for language.


**A/N: Wild Mass Guessing time!**

**Today I realized that, yeah, maybe this whole Dr. Whale = Frankenstein theory has some ground. But I personally am very, very attached to my theory, so I have decided to put it out there through the use of fanfic!**

**I've believed that the mystery characters in this fic were a part of the FTW for a while, and shortly after the Untold Stories app came out, I saw someone mention this character in conjunction with Dr. Whale, and BAM. Everything just clicked for me.**

**I'm not going to spoil who I think he is, but I will give you one hint: It's a character closely related to the fandom in which I wrote my first ever fanfic (which has been long deleted, so don't think you can cheat by looking at my profile).**

**So read and review, please, and tell me whether or not you like it. The story **_**or **_**the theory. ;)**

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"Five minutes left, nurse."

The shining blonde beauty sitting atop the front desk watched the hospital entrance with tears blurring her eyeliner. "Five minutes!" she murmured. "Oh, I pray he makes it."

Dr. Whale rolled his eyes. "Who are you praying to?" he said. "I think we've been robbed of that privilege."

"Oh, you shut up!" she scoffed. "You already know you're going to lose. Why, if he's not in the parking lot getting out of his pick-up truck right now, I'll shave my head! That's right, raised stakes! If our man doesn't walk through that door in the next five minutes, you'll not only get my fifty dollars but will see me at work tomorrow as bald as a babe!"

When did she become such a drama queen? "I don't believe it," said Dr. Whale dismissively.

"And you're right not to, doctor. I'll shave my hair, but it'll be back by morning." With a giggle and a wink, she snapped her fingers and her hair instantly grew an inch. It curled and bounced over her shoulders, which might have made her absolutely irresistible yesterday. Whale knew better now, but yesterday . . .

"Showoff," he said, averting his eyes.

"You just wish you could use your power on your hair without looking a complete tool." She reached out and ran her fingers through his wavy locks so sensually that he felt a disconcerting tingle run across his scalp and down the back of his neck.

He swept his head to the side, dislodging her hand. "For the love of . . . " he impulsively began to scold before remembering. "Nurse, please," he said instead. "We're not playing like that."

She shrugged and returned her gaze to the door, as if telling him, "_Have it your way, sailor._"

Nurse Dove was not really a nurse – rather, she was a doctor. She was a brilliant cardiologist, in fact, the only employee of the hospital with extensive knowledge of the heart. She deserved more respect than Dr. Whale gave her, but as aware of this as he was, he couldn't bring himself to call her "Doctor." "Doctor" was the most unsexy title a woman could have. Ms. Dove was a damning sex _goddess_, the kind that made men bolt upright from their comas in more ways than one. The female doctors objected to her nickname, but the men all agreed with Whale. The only proper greeting for her was "Hellooo_ooo_, nurse!"

And now that he knew her identity, the title "Doctor" seemed to fit even less.

The room was silent for mere moments before Dr. Whale felt the warm breeze of Nurse Dove's magic tickling his side. He looked at her and could tell she had a trick brewing – her lips were pursed, her blonde locks floated above her shoulders, and she was gazing intently down the hallway to the right of the desk, peering through several walls and into the office where Princess Abigail of the Grecian Kingdom slept.

Dr. Whale futilely held up his hands. "Love magic! Do you want to call off this bet?"

She only shook her head in response, keeping her focus on the spell.

"So I guess we're breaking all the rules now? Alright, then you won't mind if I drown those tulips I gave you."

The breeze faded. "Then I suppose I'll have to show those flowers to my husband," replied Nurse Dove with indignation.

"Well, then _I _suppose I should start running," retorted Dr. Whale. "But not until Dr. Ram is done handing your husband his ass."

Nurse Dove slouched and let her hair droop back down. At first Whale thought that they'd reached a verbal stalemate and she was now pouting, but a moment later, prompted by the distant sound of a woman yawning, she stood and glided across the room. As she approached the door, she exhaled inaudibly, "He's here," somehow making sure that Whale heard.

And sure enough, the automatic doors opened, and through the golden glow of late afternoon stepped the subject of their bet – "Coach" Jim Idle, a blue-collar employee of the Storybrooke Elementary School and former statue. Before he could even finish looking urgently to both sides, Nurse Dove had her hands wrapped emphatically around his arms.

"Good Sir Frederick!" she exclaimed. "At last you've come!"

Frederick stood absolutely stiff as she embraced him, either too bewildered or too mesmerized to make an escape effort. He didn't realize who she was, although Dr. Whale could see in his dopey eyes the effect her power still had on him. "What –" said the gym teacher futilely.

"Your princess awaits you, my sweet knight," said Nurse Dove. She made a sweeping motion with her hand and pointed to the hallway on the left.

Frederick just stared at her dumbly.

"Princess Abigail! She awaits you! That way, good sir!"

Frederick blinked, then opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "How do you know . . . " he said, failing to complete the thought before dashing for the hallway with his head down.

Nurse Dove sashayed back to the desk with a gleaming grin. Dr. Whale avoided being blinded by looking down as he fished through his pocket for his wallet.

"Damn you," he muttered, counting out her fifty dollars.

"Who's damning who now?"

"Shut up."

Nurse Dove sighed. "You see, doctor, that's how we should be doing our jobs. Sir Frederick is with his true love _and _he feels wanted, and how is that? It's because I used my powers to help him, and not just to screw with him."

"Well, you sure screwed _me," _said Dr. Whale. "Cheater." He reluctantly held out the money.

She didn't take it, choosing instead to flip her hair to the side. "I didn't summon him, if that's what you suspect. I simply put a tiny watch spell on the princess."

Ah, a watch spell – a staple for lazy magical beings who had short attention spans and no kitchen timers. They temporarily turned mortals' bodily functions and other phenomena into alarms of sorts. It made sense – judging by the loud yawn Dr. Whale heard just before Frederick arrived, Abigail must have been cursed to wake up as soon as he was near the hospital. Nurse Dove may have created love magic, but love in its purest form had long ago been lost to nature. So what she'd done hadn't really been cheating.

Dr. Whale still didn't like it. "Just in case you couldn't tell he was here until it was five seconds _past _six, right?" he wondered.

Nurse Dove shuddered politely – her way of rolling her eyes – and took the money. She tucked it into her brassiere.

"C'mon, something was definitely up. That guy's brain is still full of metal." Dr. Whale peered into the hallway. Frederick was still looking, checking every single door in search of his princess. He stumbled into the janitor's closet, and Dr. Whale could hear a dozen brooms falling onto his head. Moron.

Nurse Dove just turned her head. She didn't speak for several moments. She appeared to be thinking about something. "Why do you hate mortals, doctor?"

Dr. Whale froze – what a reminder that was. She used to ask him that very question every day, and every day, his answer would be the same: _I don't hate them. But they are too proud. One day, we let them have their magic, and the next, every one of them is walking around thinking that they alone are more important than the ocean and every sea combined. _Not one bit of it was a lie.

But back then, his interaction with mortals was peripheral at most. For the past twenty-eight years, he'd been one of them. He'd studied them inside and out, and he'd worked for them, to make their wretched bodies a little less mortal. He was different, and her question was suddenly absolutely insulting.

But Nurse Dove was also different. Usually a woman who would kiss a man just to make him stop talking, for once, she was not standing for silence. "You drowned a young boy. Why would you do such a thing?"

"Pinocchio, you mean. He _didn't _drown. I gave him a chance –"

"You devoured his father!"

"I was hungry, and from far away, that cricket looked like krill." Damned animal instincts were a bitch. That's why he hadn't transfigured into anything yet, not even the wildly appropriate sturgeon.

Heh. A sturgeon-is-a-fish-doctor joke would kill. He'd have to use that one of these days.

"So, yeah, I liked to fuck with mortals," he continued. He started walking around the desk so he could have this argument face to face. "The rest of us did, too. Heck, that was Dr. Gazelle's entire _modus operandi_. So why do you only pick on _me?" _

Something about that seemed to make Nurse Dove overcome with glee. She laughed as loudly as she could without snorting (she was physically incapable of snorting around anyone who found it unattractive – Whale was one of them). "_Mortals _are proud! Listen to yourself!" She chuckled for several more moments before she calmed down enough to continue. Dabbing a tear from her eye, she said, "You're not around when I pick on the others! And I would really hardly call it that. It's more of a lesson on living and loving."

Dr. Whale looked at the ceiling. "Well, lesson learned."

Immediately, she resumed laughing. "Says the god who placed bets that a mortal man was too stupid to find his true love in 24 hours!"

She'd been so mellow before the curse broke. It was really a frickin' shame that the real her was such a brat. "So you're the only god who loves and cares for mortals, huh?" said Dr. Whale. He had a plan to put her in her place. "Then tell me why you sent Sir Frederick down that hallway when you know Princess Abigail is down _that _hallway." He gestured slowly to the hallway on their right, where the princess's stirring was only becoming more obvious.

Nurse Dove stopped laughing. Her face turned pink as she stammered, "Did I . . . How could . . . Not on purpose!"

Dr. Whale took a step closer to her and leaned forward so their foreheads were almost touching. He was definitely counting this as a win, and as his prize, he was awarding himself the right to use Nurse Dove's real name. "I caught you, Aphrodite. You're as much of a mortal-fucker as the other gods."

He expected her to act appalled, maybe even humiliated. Names held power, and not least of all for the gods. But being acknowledged only seemed to return Nurse Dove's confidence. She placed her hand behind his neck and jerked his head forward so he could feel her breath on his face, cool and magical from her pursed lips. Dr. Whale became dizzy – she was smug and oh-so-sexy, and he couldn't stand it. All he could do was gape entranced as she whispered, "No, this game is over. I'm really more of a tease, Poseidon."

With that, she let go of him and snapped her fingers. Pink light shimmered on all sides of her as she shrank and grew sleek white feathers. Soon enough, she was floating in midair with a small, curved beak and dainty wings – a dove. She chirped farewell and fluttered down the hall where Frederick was still poking around.

Dr. Whale forced himself to look away, shaking off her magic. _If I worked at the pier, I'd be able to pull off crap like that, too, _he thought as he picked up his computer and started making his way back to his office. He could totally blow off some steam at the docks – make some waves, transfigure into a marlin and freak out some fishermen. But no, he had to _live _and _love _and _care _for the mortals.

Now he was a god again, and he just wished he remembered how to hate everything he exceeded in power. But that Aphrodite was more than just eye candy and annoying. She was also right. He wasn't just Poseidon. He was Dr. Poseidon. People could no longer drown at his hands.

On his way to his office, he heard the sound of a woman stretching, like she'd just woken up. He couldn't stop himself from poking his head in and asking, "Did you have a nice rest, Princess?"

Abigail's grateful smile wasn't the first to make Dr. Whale walk a little taller, but it was certainly the first to do so to Poseidon. The feeling sickened him, but he would get used to it. He had to.

Dr. Whale took one more step into the room. He was smiling as brightly as the princess when he told her, "There's someone here to see you, and I guarantee you'll be swept away when you see who."

* * *

**A/N: A-ha, yes! That's it! The first fanfiction I ever wrote was in the Percy Jackson fandom. **

**But anyway. I apologize for the horrendous Latin-Greek hybrid that is the title. Hopefully you see where I was coming from.**

**I won't bore you with why I think Dr. Whale is Poseidon in the author's note, but if you have any questions, I'll gladly PM you.**


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